


Hollow

by LeiUmbrella



Category: Produce 101 (TV), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-18 23:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22768228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeiUmbrella/pseuds/LeiUmbrella
Summary: Hangyul assured Yohan the following things: (1) he is clean from any diseases and will remain that way until the end of this, (2) their compromises and arrangement would remain a secret, and (3) love will never be a part of the equation.Today, Hangyul realizes that it was the last promise that was the hardest to fulfill.
Relationships: Kim Yohan/Lee Hangyul
Kudos: 14





	Hollow

_“We’re breaking a rule.”_

Yohan gets out of bed and tries to shower and get dressed up, clumsily tripping over himself while getting his clothes. Hangyul is seated on the bed, facing toward the window: the curtains are opened, and sunlight is peeking in. Hangyul sees an overview of a portion of the city, and he thinks it’s beautiful. Thinks it’s beautiful, and finds it sad how he has to distract himself with nonsense thoughts just so he could remove the memory from earlier.

The memory of Yohan holding him tightly after sex, hugging him and caressing his face. “You’re beautiful, Gyul. I’m afraid...”

And Yohan sobs, crying ugly tears as he sobs and apologizes. “I’m sorry. We’re breaking a rule.”

Hangyul smiles sadly, “ _You’re_ breaking a rule, Yohan. Not me.” He holds Yohan’s hand, the hand that’s still caressing his face, and gently guides it away from his face. He turned his back on Yohan, who hugged him from the back.

Hangyul knows they shouldn’t.

But he can’t guide Yohan’s hands and arms away anymore. Because inwardly, he likes it. Likes being hugged by him when they’re not moaning each other’s names.

This is against the rules they set up before. They agreed never to touch each other unless it’s for sex, afraid that _this_ might turn into love. They agreed never to whisper sweet nothings to each other. They agreed never to fall.

 _This_ is nothing more than Yohan’s distraction from his sexless marriage. Yohan fucks Hangyul to forget that he’s trapped in a marriage that does nothing but hurt him. And Hangyul fucks Yohan because he is well-paid.

Hangyul used to fuck people for a living, and he _thought_ of sex with Yohan as a charity for his good friend. Yohan _needs_ sex but does not know where to release his pent-up emotions. It was a compromise: Yohan pays a hefty amount to Hangyul for his services, and Hangyul is to stop working as a prostitute, with Yohan as his _only_ client.

Hangyul assured Yohan the following things: (1) he is clean from any diseases and will remain that way until the end of _this_ , (2) their compromises and arrangement would remain a secret, and (3) love will never be a part of the equation.

Today, Hangyul realizes that it was the last promise that was the hardest to fulfill.

They fell asleep with Yohan hugging Hangyul, his head rested against Hangyul’s bare back and crying and sobbing and _regretting_ that they even started this.

When the sun rose, Yohan finds Hangyul sitting at the edge of the bed, looking at the window, and sitting still. Yohan clumsily gets up and showers for a good thirty minutes, scrubbing away all remnants of Hangyul. He later dressed up, and wordlessly, he hands Hangyul a stack of cash. Hangyul laughs hollowly, “This is a lot more than what you usually pay.” Hangyul looks up at him, “Will this be our last?”

Yohan avoids his gaze, but Hangyul never took off his gaze from Yohan, staring intently.

“I don’t know, Hangyul.” Yohan says uncomfortably, conscious of the other man’s gaze on him. “I’ll give you a call once I’ve decided on it.”

He leaves the hotel room, and briskly walks toward the elevator, his hand shaking from anxiety at what happened. Yohan clenches his fist, angry at himself. Angry for doing what he did, for blurring the lines between admiration and sex, between emotions and fucking.

And Hangyul?

Hangyul is left inside the hotel room, feeling numb and unable to cry, confused as to how Yohan’s innocent touch that grazed upon his cheek make him _feel_ more than any of the latter’s lustful touches.

Maybe it’s because he is Hangyul. And Hangyul is used to sex, used to all sorts of kink.

But never used to affection.

Never used to being admired as more than a sexual object, never used to feeling a glimmer of hope that perhaps, he too can be loved.

Merely a few hours later, both men went back to their normal lives.

Hangyul goes shopping, indulging himself with the material goods Yohan’s money can provide him. Indulging himself in all the material things that can never make him forget how good Yohan feels inside of him, and how utterly painful it is to feel any semblance of hope that the other man loves him.

And Yohan?

Yohan is stuck inside the hospital room, looking desperately at his wife who is alive only through the help of many machines, desperately hoping and wondering if she will ever wake up again. He is seated at the couch right beside the hospital bed, gently holding his son who is fast asleep on his lap.

“Hon, you know I love you, right?” he asks the woman, wholly sure that she won’t even hear. That she hasn’t heard him in a year. That she probably never will hear him again. And that he, too, will probably never hear her voice again.

The curtains in the hospital room are opened, and the sun has set, with the moon taking its place. Yohan sees the bustling lights of the city, hollowly noting its lack of stars, hollowly noting how the only lights that surround them are artificial. Untrue. Devoid of genuineness.

“I love you.”

He holds his son’s hands, as a last resort attempt to remind him why he hasn’t given up on his wife.

“I love you.”

He says again, hoping those words will remove thoughts of Hangyul off his mind.

“I love you.”

He says repeatedly until he grows tired, unsure if there is even any sense of genuineness when he says those words to the unconscious body connected to machines, to the person he called his wife.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? :D  
> And also.. holler at me at twt?[@leigyul](https://mobile.twitter.com/leigyul/)  
> ISTG I'm funnier than this. LMAO


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